Hunger Pangs
by jncar
Summary: Remus dearly hopes to avoid another painful encounter with Dora when is he is forced to meet an Order member in Hogsmeade, but when he overhears that she is caught up in a dangerous mystery that he knows how to solve he chooses to stay and help. RLNT.


**Author's notes:**This was written for the October 2007 All Hallows Moon Jumble at MetamorficMoon on Live Journal. The plot was inspired, in part, by the episode "Pangs" of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Enjoy!

Hunger Pangs

The gravel crunched beneath Remus's feet as he paced back and forth along a crumbling stone wall on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The clouds were thick, threatening snow, and a light fog filled the air with a heavy cold dampness that pierced his thin, battered cloak and chilled him to the bone. He hugged himself tightly in a vain attempt to stave off the cold, and with every breath a cloud of mist emerged from his mouth to hover in the air before his face.

He wished he had a watch. He wasn't sure if he was early, or if Severus was late.

Remus glanced to his left at the inviting glow of lamplight shining from dozens of windows in the village. His empty stomach growled. He hadn't had a proper meal in weeks, and though he'd grown used to the hunger it was still difficult to resist the temptation to buy some food while he was away from the pack—they would never know.

He shook his head. No—it seemed wrong to indulge himself like that when so many of his fellows were still starving.

Still, he couldn't help but look on those glowing windows with longing. He tried in vain to stop himself from picturing all the families and friends, gathered around well-laden dinner tables, warmed by roaring fires in their grates. Somewhere, behind one of those distant glowing windows, was Dora sitting by just such a fire?

He turned away from the tantalizing lights and resumed his pacing; it was the only thing that could keep him from freezing (and that could distract him from the growing rumblings in his belly).

He hated his monthly meetings with Severus. If only he would agree to meet somewhere other than Hogsmeade. Anywhere would be better than the place where Dora lived. Unfortunately, Severus had the upper hand in this exchange. Remus needed the Wolfsbane Potion to prevent himself from running wild like the rest of the pack during transformations, and only Severus could provide it. If he refused to meet anywhere but Hogsmeade, Remus had no choice but to come to him.

It felt like another half an hour had passed before Remus finally heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He stopped pacing, and turned to face the source of the sound. Soon, the cloak-swathed figure of Severus Snape emerged from the fog.

"I apologize for my lateness," he said. "I was compelled to attend Professor Slughorn's execrable holiday party tonight."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "So, the Slug Club is up and running again, is it?"

"In full force." Severus frowned. He reached into his cloak and drew out a small, dirty cloth sack. "You'll find five shrunken vials of Wolfsbane inside. That should be enough to get you through the next full moon."

"Thank you Severus," Remus replied, pocketing the sack. Next, he quickly reported to Severus on the status of his mission. Things weren't going well, but he tried to emphasize the few positive gains he _had _made.

"Humph," said Severus. "It's still not enough. This week the Dark Lord actually_congratulated_ Greyback on his progress. Clearly, you are having almost no effect in counteracting his propaganda. You need to redouble your efforts."

"I'll do my best," said Remus, his eyes downcast, wondering what more he could do. Wasn't he already pushing himself to the limit?

"Let's hope it's enough."

Remus shuffled his feet, and nodded, his eyes still on the ground.

"Very well. I'm heading back to the castle now. Oh…one last thing," said Snape. Remus looked up. "Molly Weasley insisted that I convey to you her invitation to spend Christmas at her home."

This was not entirely unexpected, but Remus was unsure if he could accept the tempting invitation. He was able to get away from the pack from time to time, as did several other of the older men in the group. So his disappearance wouldn't be too unusual. And perhaps…Dora might be there.

"Thank you, Severus. I appreciate you taking the time."

Severus nodded sharply, and turned to stride away into the night.

Remus sighed, and drew his cloak more tightly about him. It was foolishness to even think about joining Dora for the holiday. Hadn't her hurt her enough already? Seeing her now would only reopen old wounds for both of them, and quite probably inflict some new ones.

He shook his head, and turned to stare at the enticing lights of the village again. He knew he should be heading back to the pack now, but for some reason he lingered.

He must have been more tired than he knew, because it took him several moments to realize that he was slowly walking toward the village. It was as if his body began moving of its own accord without consulting his mind about the matter first.

As his mind reasserted itself he halted in his progress. His stomach gurgled again.

It wouldn't do any real harm, would it? Just a quick stroll through the village, and a few minutes pause inside the Hog's Head. The food there was simple and inexpensive. It's not like he would be eating a sumptuous banquet—just a toad in the hole, or a batty.

His mouth started salivating at the thought, and his feet began moving again. It looked like he was going to town.

Remus circled around through a field to enter the village through one of the side streets—he didn't want to risk running into Dora.

As he climbed wearily over a fence to get to the lane that would take him into town, a movement caught the corner of his eye. Instinctively he crouched down, sliding partly behind a nearby shrub for cover. He peered through the bare branches to survey the scene.

A tall thin man, clad all in black, had just stepped onto the lane. He was holding what appeared to be a cat—though it was tucked under his arm in a way that one would more likely carry a package or a sack of flour than an animal. As the breeze picked up, Remus caught the scent of something unusual—like damp rust. The man looked hurriedly around, and then strode rapidly toward town.

He seemed a strange fellow, but there was nothing to cause alarm. Remus waited a few minutes for him to disappear into town, and then stood up and followed.

A few minutes later he emerged into town, just down the street from the Hog's Head. He stepped inside the pub, and walked to the bar. He was one of only four patrons—it must be getting late.

That night Aberforth was serving pasties, and Remus was more than happy to hand over a handful of sickles in exchange for a pasty and a pint. He didn't realize just how hungry he was until the pasty was placed in front of him. He wolfed down his food and drink in less than three minutes, and then licked all his fingers trying to capture every last crumb. And still his stomach cried out for more.

This time, however, he held himself back. He didn't have much money left, and he'd likely make himself sick if he ate any more tonight—his body was no longer used to that kind of fare.

He thanked Aberforth, and, less than ten minutes after entering the pub, he left it again.

As he stepped outside, he caught sight of the tall stranger darting around the bend that led back out into the fields. Now that he had food in his belly, Remus was better able to concentrate. There was definitely something odd about that fellow. He paced to the end of the street and furtively looked around the bend to see if he could catch sight of the stranger again, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Remus shook his head. He should leave well enough alone. But—just in case the bloke _was_ trouble—he decided to avoid the man and head back through town instead of the fields. As he turned to head back into the village he caught a whiff of the rusty scent again. Nearby stood a row of four rubbish bins. Three of them were neatly closed, but on the fourth the lid was askew, as if it had been replaced in hast.

Remus strode over the bin, and glanced inside. The body of a grey cat lay atop the pile of rubbish inside the bin.

Remus removed the lid completely to get a better look at the cat. There was a dark patch that could only be blood around its neck. He gently prodded the cat with his fingertips. It was definitely dead—but still warm. Had that tall stranger just now killed the cat and dumped it in the rubbish bin?

Remus was distracted from the troubling thought by the sound of raised voices coming from High Street. Remus replaced the lid on the bin, stealthily made his way toward the intersection, and discreetly peered around the corner to see what was going on.

* * *

Tonks was not having a good day. After spending all morning dealing with a string of petty complaints from the villagers, she'd spent most of the afternoon and evening in the forest with Proudfoot driving out a flock of dementors. She'd finally just enjoyed a warm meal and a pint at the Three Broomsticks, and was heading back to her flat when she was detained by Horace Slughorn, of all people.

He yammered on about needing to get back to a party to entertain his guests, and gestured animatedly at his companion, a short doughy fellow in thick spectacles and vivid magenta dress robes. In her tired state it took Tonks several minutes to decipher Slughorn's euphemisms enough to figure out what was going on.

"Hold on," she said, raising her hand. "So you're telling me that Mr. Waddle here…"

"Worple," interrupted the small man. "It's Worple."

"That Mr. Worple," she continued, "brought a friend to your party at Hogwarts, and now his friend has gone missing?"

"Yes, yes. I explained all this already," said Slughorn, frowning at her. "I need to return the castle to see to my other guests, and to assist the other staff members in their search for our missing—ah—person. You, young lady, need to help Eldred here search the village and its environs."

"It's absolutely critical that we find him!" piped up Worple, wringing his hands in front of him. "We're at a delicate stage in our experiment. The slightest temptation right now could ruin him! We have to find him before he feeds!"

Tonks stared at the man with her mouth open for a moment, before turning back to Slughorn. "What in Merlin's name is he talking about?"

Slughorn huffed. "Haven't you heard a word that I've been saying? Aren't any of the other Aurors around? Cecil Dawlish, perhaps? Now there's a good man. His father was Head of Magical Law Enforcement, in his day."

Tonks frowned. "Dawlish is in his flat, probably asleep. And _I_ am head of Auror operations here in Hogsmeade. I heard every word that you said, I assure you. But it would help immensely if you would simply talk straight with me instead of dancing around the issue. So what exactly is wrong with the man?"

"Well," said Worple, "the problem is…he's not a man, in the strictest sense of the word."

Tonks raised her eyebrows and looked at Slughorn. He sighed. "He's a vampire."

Tonks turned back to glare at Worple. "You brought a vampire into Hogwarts, and then you lost him?!"

"A tame vampire!" replied Worple, scowling back at her. "I happen to be one of the foremost vampire experts in England, and I assure you that I would never bring a dangerous vampire into a school. Sanguini swore off human blood decades ago."

"And you're certain he's telling the truth?"

"Miss Tonks," interjected Slughorn. "The welfare of my students is my first priority. I've met Sanguini on several occasions and I've read all of Eldred's books and articles on their friendship. He is truly a tame vampire."

Tonks folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head. "So why, exactly, did this tame vampire of yours run off on his own? And why are you in such a hurry to find him?"

Worple shuffled his feet several times, and recommenced wringing his hands. "He's on a special diet, you see. We've been conducting a new experiment, to see how long vampires can comfortably subsist on a diet of nothing but human foods. We were well into our third week, and I didn't want to break his streak just for the party, so…"

Tonks's eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline and her mouth hung open. "Bloody buggering hell!" She advanced on Worple with a fiery light in her eyes. "You brought a starving vampire into a school full of children, and then you lost him?!"

"Well…yes."

"Are you out of your mind!?! What are we doing here? We should be up at the castle protecting the students!" She turned, ready to dash up High Street toward Hogwarts.

"Miss Tonks! Miss Tonks!" said Slughorn, grasping her shoulder. "The staff has it well in hand. Hagrid is patrolling the grounds and all the dormitories have been searched and sealed. Eldred is nearly certain that Sanguini left the grounds, and is somewhere in the vicinity of the village."

"Nearly certain?_Nearly_ certain?" The pitch of her voice was rising precipitously.

Slughorn edged away from her, raising his eyebrows. "Perhaps Colin Dawlish might be of more assistance?"

"Arghhh!" Tonks threw her hands in the air. "You want Dawlsh? Fine. You can have him." She reached out to grab Slughorn and Worple by their arms.

Just before Dissapparating with the two frustrating men in tow, she thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar brown-cloaked figure disappearing around a corner.

She shook her head. It must be the exhaustion—her mind was playing tricks on her.

She concentrated her thoughts on the door of the flat shared by the male Aurors in Hogsmeade, and Disapparated.

* * *

Remus knew there was something unusual about that tall stranger. Apparently nearly three weeks without blood was a little too long. At least he was only feeding on cats. But it was still important to find him as soon as possible. Now that he had the taste of blood in his mouth, his instincts could drive him into a frenzied blood lust.

Remus edged further back into the shadows to avoid detection. It was hard seeing Dora again, like this. She looked so thin and tired—so small. He could tell she was losing her cool far quicker than she used to.

Remus took a deep breath. He knew that he should leave. He should walk away right now and go back to the pack. But he couldn't. She looked like she was at the end of her rope. She needed help. She needed _his _help—and he knew right were to find the vampire's trail.

Her voice was growing shrill with frustration. Remus stepped forward, longing to go to her.

As she shifted her body to grab a hold of Slughorn and the other man, her face turned in his direction, and he darted quickly back under cover. He heard the sharp crack of Apparition, and a glance around the corner confirmed that she and the men were gone.

He leaned against the cold wall and closed his eyes. This was madness. What would she think of him if she discovered that he'd been listening to her—watching her? But how could he leave without helping her?

He would simply have to find a way to help without her knowing it. After all, he was something of an expert on not attracting attention; it was a skill he'd cultivated for years.

With his mind made up, he strode back down the street to where the stranger had disappeared, and started examining the ground for tracks. After just a minute of searching he discovered some long, narrow footprints in the soft earth behind a nearby cottage, and a faint whiff of the damp rusty smell wafted past his nose.

He was on the right track.

Remus broke into a slow jog, his eyes on the ground searching for more tracks, and his nostrils flaring in search of the vampire's scent. He jogged behind several cottages and an old barn. The tracks and the scent began to lead him back toward the village.

He neared a cluster of shops and turned into a narrow alleyway.

Remus skidded to a halt. The vampire was there, at the end of the alley. He was holding another cat.

"Drop that cat!" called Remus, running toward him, pulling out his wand.

The vampire stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. Before Remus could point his wand, the vampire threw the cat at him.

Remus stumbled backward, throwing his arms up to catch the yowling feline, which promptly started scratching at his arms. In the meantime, the vampire has disappeared onto the nearby street.

"Calm down!" said Remus, stroking the cat while examining it for wounds.

It continued to yowl plaintively at him.

"Snowball! Snowball! Come to mama, Snowball!" a feminine voice called from nearby.

Remus looked backed down at the fluffy white cat in his arms. "Snowball, I presume? Let's get you to your mama."

He walked to the end of the alley, and looked out into the street. To his left a stooped, white-haired old woman in a dressing gown and shawl was still calling for her pet.

He walked up to her, wearing his friendliest smile. "Madam? Is this who you're looking for?"

Her wrinkled face brightened. "Snowball! Oh, thank you so much, young man. I was frantic with worry."

Remus gently handed the cat to her owner. "She's a bit rattled—I found her trapped under a crate in the alley," he said.

"Oh dear! My poor little Snowball." The woman smiled up at him. "You're our hero. I don't know what I would have done without my Snowball."

"It was my pleasure," said Remus with a nod, his eyes darting up and down the street in search of the vampire.

"Would you do an old woman one more favor?" she asked. "My steps are slick from this damp air—would you mind walking me back to my flat?"

Remus glanced up the street again. He was losing time. He sighed, and looked back at the old woman. "It would be no trouble," he said, offering the woman his arm.

* * *

Tonks's night was getting slightly better. She'd managed to unload Slughorn on Dawlish and Proudfoot, and they were all headed back to Hogwarts together to secure the castle and the grounds. Savage was out on his regular patrol around the village, and with any luck he'd run across the vampire already. But, since luck was rarely on her side lately, she still had to do her part; however, she was going to make damn sure that Worple did _his_ part as well.

She led him back out onto the street to start a sweep of the village. "Do you have any idea what sorts of locations he might seek out? Would he go somewhere public, or do you think he'd try to hide?"

"I think he'd be more likely to hide. He wouldn't want to be around people if the hunger is what's bothering him." Worple shuffled along behind her.

Tonks gritted her teeth. "If you knew that being around crowds would agitate him, then why didn't you just leave him home?"

"He's been fasting for nearly three weeks!" said Worple, aghast. "I couldn't possibly leave him alone with my prize winning Kneazles, now could I?"

Tonks skidded to a halt and rounded on Worple, her mouth open. "What?" asked Worple.

She held her hands out in front of her, pantomiming the act of strangling a fat little neck. "You have no clue. None at all. Do you?"

Worple just stared, blinking at her in confusion.

She shook her head. "Let's go. We're losing time."

As much as she hated such crude methods, given the circumstances Tonks decided that a door to door search would be their best option. For now, however, she limited herself to homes and shops where the lights were still on. After nearly half a dozen fruitless inquiries, she finally got a lead at Honeydukes. The young clerk keeping shop that night said, "I don't know if I saw the fellow you're after or not. But fifteen minutes ago, I was taking out the rubbish and a saw a strange-looking bloke talking with old Mrs. Quirk. It looked like he was going down to her flat with her."

The look of alarm on Worple's face was enough to spur Tonks to action. "Where does Mrs. Quirk live?" she asked.

The clerk pointed across the street, two shops down. "Down in the basement flat under the grocer's."

"Thank you," said Tonks with a sharp nod, whirling to cross the street.

"Oh dear," muttered Worple, once again ringing his hands. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…"

Tonks clenched her fists. "If this vampire of yours is so bleeding tame, then why are you so worried?"

Worple looked pale. "Well…it's just that an experiment of this sort has never been conducted before. There's no way to know for certain how well he'll be able to combat his instincts…"

"And Sanguini agreed to this experiment willingly, did he?" She glared at Worple.

"Of…of…of course he did," stammered Worple, as his left eye began to twitch.

This whole scenario was getting fishier and fishier.

They reached the dark grocer's shop, and circled to the left side where a dim stairway led down to a battered white door. Tonks paused at the top of the stairs, and pulled out her wand. There was a dark niche to the side of the door, and from where she stood Tonks could not tell how deep it was—it might even be a hall. Anything could be waiting back there.

"Pull out your wand," she whispered to Worple.

"What? Why?"

"Because you're going first."

Worple jumped backward, his belly rippling beneath its magenta silk wrappings. "But…I'm just a writer! You're the bloody Auror!"

"You starved him; you brought him out in a crowd; you let him get away; you say he's tame. You. Go. First." She aimed her wand menacingly at Worple.

Worple's bottom lip trembled. With a small whimper he pulled out his wand. He gripped the stair railing with his free hand, holding his shaking wand in front of him, and slowly started down the stairs.

Tonks followed close behind Worple, gripping her own wand with a steady hand. Step by step, they moved ever closer to the dark niche below.

_Creak!_

"Ahhh!" cried Worple, jumping backward faster than Tonks would have thought possible from looking at him. He rammed into her, knocking her back against the stairs.

"Uff," she grunted as her lower back banged against the sharp corner of a stair. "Worple, you wally! Get off of me!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" cried Worple, scrambling out of her lap to sit down heavily on the step next to her.

"So much for the element of surprise." Tonks rose to her feet and clomped heavily down the remaining stairs. One glance to her left was enough to see that the dark niche concealed nothing but a few spider webs and a crumbling statue of a grinning cherub.

Before she raised her fist to knock, the door opened to reveal a short old woman with frizzy white hair. "What in the world is all the racket about?" she said. "You're agitating Snowball—and she's already had a very hard night."

"I'm sorry for the disturbance. Are you Mrs. Quirk?"

"Yes, that's me. What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you. We're looking for a suspicious individual, and one of your neighbors said they might have seen him with you a few minutes ago."

"That nice young man?" said Mrs. Quirk with wide eyes. "I hope he isn't in any trouble."

"Was he tall, with pale skin and dark hair, dressed all in black?" said Worple.

Mrs. Quirk shook her head. "No. That wasn't him at all. He had brown hair and a brown cloak—though he did look a bit pale…"

Tonks frowned. It was a false lead. They were still no closer to finding the vampire.

"I'm so glad he's not the one you're looking for. Such a gentleman. He saved my Snowball from being trapped under a crate in the alley, and then he helped me down the stairs. So polite, as well. I invited him in for some tea, but he said he had some business to get to, though what business he could be doing this time of night is beyond me…"

While the old woman rambled, Tonks thought back on her all too brief glimpse of a familiar brown-cloaked figure darting around a corner. And now Mrs. Quirk was describing a pale brown-cloaked stranger who was kind and helpful. Were they the same person? Could it possibly be…?

Tonks closed her eyes, trying to banish the thought from her head. It was pointless to think that he would be here, so close to her. She had a job to do. She couldn't let these idle fancies distract her.

"No, that's not who we're looking for. I'm sorry to trouble you Mrs. Quirk. Goodnight."

Tonks sighed as they made their way back up the stairs. She really hoped Savage or Dawlish had found the vampire already, so she could go back to her flat and go to sleep. All she wanted was for this night to end.

* * *

Luck was with Remus tonight. It only took him a few minutes after his detour to pick up the vampire's trail again. The creature finally seemed to be following his head instead of his belly, and was heading away from town.

Soon enough it became clear that he was headed to a place with which Remus was intimately familiar: the Shrieking Shack.

Remus couldn't fault his choice of hiding places. No normal humans ever dared enter the reputedly haunted building.

Remus Disillusioned himself, and slowly and quietly crept around the perimeter of the building. Sure enough, several of the boards over one of the windows were hanging loose, leaving a gap large enough for a thin man. As quietly as he could, Remus climbed inside.

The footprints were clear in the thick dust blanketing the floor.

Wand at the ready, Remus stealthily followed the tracks toward a battered door, hanging loosely from its top hinge. The rusty smell hung thick in the air. A faint slurping sound was coming from behind the door.

Remus paused outside the door, and took a deep breath.

He burst through the door, pointing his wand and calling, "Put your hands in the air! Put your hands in the air right now!"

The tall dark vampire sat in the corner. He raised his trembling hands over his head, the body of a rabbit falling to the ground with a dull thud. He stared wide-eyed at Remus. A dark smear of fresh blood covered his lips.

"Please! Please!" he cried. "I've done nothing wrong. I only want to go home."

The vampire's posture was not that of a man intending to attack, but Remus maintained a vigilant stance, wand pointed and ready for action.

"If you've done nothing wrong, then why are you hiding from your friend?" he demanded.

The vampire continued shaking, his hands still held high over his head. He spoke in a thick Italian accent. "Worple's no friend of mine. He's starving me—holding me captive. I can't go back there. Please…don't make me go back."

Remus edged cautiously toward the vampire. "What do you mean, starving you?"

The vampire slowly lowered his hands. "He refuses to give me blood—insists I eat nothing but human food. He tells me that he'll turn me into your Ministry if I try to find my own prey. I'm nothing but an experiment to him. He thinks this will give him everlasting fame. I thought he wanted to help vampires, but all he wants is power and money. I should never have listened to him—never let him convince me to come here. I don't belong here. I belong with my own people. You understand, don't you? Beings like us should stick with our own kind."

Remus frowned. "How did you know?"

The vampire shook his head. "You don't smell any more human to me than I do to you, my friend. Why are you helping them? They don't care any more for your kind than they do for mine."

Remus slowly lowered his wand. The vampire was only repeating the very same lesson that Remus had learned for himself over the past few months. There was no place for his kind in human society.

"Please, friend," continued the vampire. "Let me go. I need to get back to Italy, to my own kind. We have a colony there, on a remote island. We've learned to live off of the blood of our cattle, like the Masai warriors of Africa. We're a peaceful people. All we ever wanted was to be left to ourselves. Until Worple came. He convinced us that he wanted to help the wider world accept us. I should never have believed him. Humans do nothing but lie to beings like you and me."

"No," said Remus without hesitation. "Not all of them."

The vampire raised his eyebrows in question.

"There's a woman I know. She can be trusted. She's one of the Auror's in the village."

"One of the Aurors who are searching for me?"

"Yes."

The vampire shook his head. "I don't understand."

Remus stepped toward him. "Let me explain."

* * *

Tonks had heard no news from either Savage or Dawlish. With every passing minute more and more homes and businesses were locking their doors and turning off their lights. She was virtually certain that the vampire was not in the village—surely there would have been some sign by now.

Chances were high that he'd made a clean break. Worple would never find him again.

Tonks's body was beginning to slump with weariness. She could feel blisters forming on her tired feet. Merlin's bones, this had been a long day.

See could see the reality of the situation was sinking in with Worple as well. He trudged heavily with downcast eyes, and he twisted bunches of his flamboyant robes in his hands. He seemed to be muttering something under his breath, but Tonks no longer cared. All she wanted was to be home in her warm bed.

"All right, Worple," she said. "We're going to make one perimeter sweep of the entire village, and then we're going to go up to the castle to check on the progress there. I'm starting think we're not finding your vampire tonight."

He nodded glumly and followed along as she led him toward the edge of town.

As they turned up the lane leading toward the Shrieking Shack, she caught sight of a faint silvery light dancing behind a stand of trees on the side of a nearby hill.

She drew her wand. "Stay behind me," she said to Worple. "I'm going to check this out."

She struck out across the field toward the trees. The closer she came to the light, the further it danced away from her.

As it darted from a clump of shrubs to another stand of trees, she thought she could make out the shape of a four-legged animal. Was it a Patronus?

She glanced behind her. Worple was starting to lag—but she didn't much care. He'd only get in the way.

The slivery shape darted across an open space to hide behind a crumbling stone wall. It really did look like a Patronus. In fact, it looked almost like Remus's… Was he really here? Was he really the brown-cloaked man who'd been lurking just out of reach all night?

Was he leading her somewhere? Did he need her?

Tonks picked up her pace, drawing ever closer to the elusive Patronus.

Remus crouched in the shrubs, watching as Dora passed just a few feet away from him. The moonlight bathed her face in its dim glow, clearly highlighting the look of hopeful determination on her face. It had been months since he last saw her so close, and he could feel his heart racing. The temptation to step out of hiding and reveal himself to her was almost overwhelming. But that wasn't why he was here. Facing her now—speaking to her—would only cause more problems than it would solve.

Nothing that stood between them could be resolved tonight. He had work to do. They both did.

Dora was halfway up the hill above him when Worple finally drew near, panting heavily.

Remus acted quickly, casting a silencing charm and a leg-locker curse in quick succession. Worple's arms flailed wildly in the air, and Remus darted forward to catch him before he toppled. Worple struggled to fight Remus off, but it didn't take him long to pin Worple's arms to his sides and drag him back behind the shrubs.

Remus could see the red-faced Worple silently shouting at him in wide-eyed terror.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I just needed to make sure you were out of the way for a little while so that Sanguini could have a talk with Auror Tonks. I'm sure she'll find what he has to say very enlightening. I'll let you go in an hour or two once he's safely out of your clutches."

Worple's indignant scowl was the only confirmation that Remus needed to know he was doing the right thing.

The light of the Patronus faded as Tonks got close to the crumbling wall. Was Remus there, waiting for her?

Her heart was pounding in anticipation as she rounded the wall. There was nothing there.

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She'd almost convinced herself that he'd really come to see her.

Just then, a tall figure stepped from behind a nearby tree.

Tonks sprang into a fighting stance, pointing her wand.

"Don't move! Put your hands in the air where I can see them!"

The black clad man raised his empty hands in the air, and spoke. "My name is Sanguini. I am a vampire. A man called Eldred Worple has been holding me against my will. I wish to apply for sanctuary with the Ministry of Magic."

"Sanctuary? Why should we give you sanctuary?"

"Please, Auror Tonks. Give me a chance to explain."

His voice and his eyes were full of sincerity. Tonks stepped closer to him. "All right. I'm listening."

* * *

Dora and Sanguini passed back down the hill half an hour later. Remus could tell by Dora's more relaxed stance that she had believed his story, and was going to help him.

Worple saw it too. He looked utterly deflated.

Remus let another hour pass before finally releasing Worple. The fat little man scrambled to his feet, frowning. "This is outrageous! I should have you arrested!"

The corners of Remus's mouth turned up slightly, and he shook his head. "You probably should, but I don't think you will."

"Why not?"

Remus stepped forward, looking down on the short man. "Because if you do the whole sordid story is going to be made public. Your reputation as a scientist and a writer will be ruined once people hear about your coercive and unethical tactics."

Worple scowled. "What makes you think people will believe you? I know who you are. I recognize your picture from the paper. You're that werewolf that got sacked from Hogwarts. No one will trust a single word you say."

Remus could feel himself tensing up in frustration. "Perhaps not. But they will believe Auror Tonks. And as she's now spent plenty of time with both you and Sanguini, I think she's in a pretty good position to judge which of you is more credible. And let me warn you—Tonks is a strong believer in justice. I wouldn't count on her keeping this to herself, whether you try to have me arrested or not. Chances are, by tomorrow night you'll be facing charges from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Worple puffed himself up. "She wouldn't dare! I have powerful friends in the Ministry."

"Oh, she would dare all right. Believe me—I know from personal experience just how tenacious she can be about things she cares about. And the rights and welfare of part-humans is something she cares about very much."

Worple huffed and snorted, tugging at his rumpled robes. "You and your bloody Auror friend can both go to hell!" he said, and turned to stomp down the hill.

Remus sighed, and leaned back against a tree, looking down at the nearby village.

Most of the lights in the village were now out, but a handful still glowed with inviting warmth. And inside one of those glowing windows, Dora was doing what she did best: helping someone in need.

He was glad he'd played a part in it, however small.

With one last long look at the distantly glowing lights, he Apparated away.

* * *

The next morning Tonks was finishing her breakfast of toast and tea when she heard a knock on the door of her flat.

Sanguini looked immediately edgy, and she couldn't blame him after what he'd been through during his months under Worple's power.

He'd spent the night magically sealed in her small spare room, and she'd been planning on taking him by Hagrid's hut for some breakfast before accompanying him to London to report in to the Ministry.

Her first thought was that the knock must be from one of her associates, but she didn't know what they would want. After returning to the village last night she'd contacted all the other Aurors to let them know that she'd found the vampire, and that the situation was under control. They all had their duty assignments for the rest of the week, and they knew that she normally slept late on her days off. So why would they be here so early in the morning?

She rose and went to the door, gasping in surprise as she opened it. It was Worple, looking rather worse for the wear in his soiled dress robes.

"He's here, isn't he?" said Worple, pushing bodily past her. His eyes widened in triumph as they came to rest on Sanguini, who was now standing apprehensively in the corner.

"I'm not going back," said the vampire. "I'm going home to my people. You have no more power over me."

Worple shook his head. "We could have been famous, Sanguini. Imagine the fortunes we could have made together."

"I don't care about fame or fortune. All I want is to go home."

Tonks closed her door, and folded her arms across her chest, glaring at the new arrival.

"I don't know what you hope to accomplish here, Worple," she said. "I've heard Sanguini's side of the story, and I believe him completely."

"Oh, I've no doubt you do," he replied, "given the company you keep."

What exactly did that mean?

"Then you know that anything you say to me now will be pointless. As soon as I throw you out of here, I'm taking Sanguini directly to London to report his grievance to the Ministry. I'm sure you'll be hearing from them before the day is out."

Worple turned around to look her in the eyes. "That is precisely what I came here to speak to you about, Miss Tonks. Is it really necessary to involve the Ministry in this matter? I'd much rather solve this quietly, amongst ourselves."

"You need to be punished for your crimes, Worple. Justice needs to be done."

The corners of Worple's mouth turned up in a simpering smile. "My dear Miss Tonks—your devotion to the cause of justice is admirable, but a trifle naïve."

"Naïve?" She stepped toward him wearing her fiercest frown, but he continued to smile.

"You don't honestly think that a simple complaint to the Ministry will be the end of it, do you? Sanguini won't be leaving for Italy any time in the foreseeable future."

"What do you mean?"

Worple chuckled. "With the finest solicitors at my disposal this matter will be tied up in red tape for months—maybe even a year. You'll probably win in the end. Or, at least, win a few concessions. But in the meantime Sanguini will be moldering away in Ministry custody for months on end. His lot won't have improved. In fact, he might even be worse off than he was in my care. What justice is there in that?"

Sanguini stepped forward with concern in his eyes. "Tonks…is this true?"

Tonks bit her bottom lip, and looked down at her feet. "It might be."

Sanguini shook his head. "No. No. I need to get home to my people. I've been away for too long already."

"I thought you might feel that way," replied Worple, turning to look at Sanguini. "That's why I'm prepared to make you an offer. An offer that will get you back home in time for Christmas."

"What is it?" asked the vampire.

"I'll pay for your journey home—first class the whole way—and give you one hundred galleons extra to help make up for all the trouble. In exchange, you'll leave quietly and let this matter drop without going to the Ministry."

Tonks clenched her fists and stepped forward. "Don't listen to him, Sanguini. He doesn't care about you—he's only trying to help himself."

Worple spun on his heel to face her. "And don't think I've forgotten you, Miss Tonks. I'm prepared to compensate you quiet handsomely for letting this unfortunate situation quietly drop."

"Are you trying to bribe me?" Tonks could hardly believe her ears.

"I'm only suggesting a friendly exchange of services."

"You're sick. Sick and depraved."

Worple's smile finally faded. "I'm not the sick one here, Miss Tonks. I'm a normal man, trying to meet a normal man's needs. My work with vampires helped me to meet those needs. What about you? Colluding with dark creatures out of some misplaced sympathy? These creatures can't be trusted—that's why I kept Sanguini under such tight control. And I suggest you do the same with that tame werewolf of yours."

Tonks gasped, stepping back. Remus? Who else could he mean? Remus _was_ there last night, just like she had suspected. But why hadn't he contacted her? Why had he hidden from her? Was he really so afraid of what she might say or do?

She could feel tears forming in her eyes. She looked up at the vampire. "Was he there last night? Did you see him?"

Sanguini nodded. "He was the one who convinced me to trust you. He swore me to secrecy."

Tonks turned away from them both. Her chest was tightening. The tears were leaking out of her eyes no matter how much she wanted to stop them. Why wouldn't he come to her? Did he really care more about helping a vampire than he did about helping her?

"Now, Miss Tonks," continued Worple, oblivious to her distress. "I'm certain we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement."

"Give him a chance, Tonks," said Sanguini softly. "I don't want to stay here just to fight a battle against him in the courts. I don't care what becomes of him. I just want to go home. Please?"

"Listen to him, Tonks. If you really want to help him, you'll take my offer," said Worple.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears, and took slow deep breaths to steady herself.

Worple spoke again. "You look stressed. Overworked. A holiday in Italy might be just the thing to ease your burdens. I have access to a beautiful little villa overlooking the sea. It's still warm there this time of year. You could have it all or yourself for as long as you like over the holiday season. Or, if you prefer, you could take a guest."

She rubbed her eyes, and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"You'd have the chance to see Sanguini all the way back to his home, to make sure he gets there safe and sound. That ought to satisfy your misplaced charitable impulses. And then you can relax for the rest of the holiday. And I'll pay for the whole thing. All I ask in return is that you let this matter drop. What do you say?"

Tonks took another deep breath, and turned back to face him.

"You will never go anywhere near Sanguini or his people again, and you will do everything in your power to make sure that no one else does either. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." Worple nodded.

Tonks nodded back, and looked back over at Sanguini, his eyes still pleading with her.

"All right, Worple. I don't want your Italian villa or your damned holiday. But Sanguini_can_ go home. And I won't say anything to the Ministry."

Worple clapped his fat hands together and chuckled, and then began rattling all about working out the details. Sanguini grinned at her in relief and happiness.

Tonks could feel her guts churning. What had she just done?

She sank into a chair, staring out the window at the foggy landscape. She had betrayed her oath to the Ministry. She had turned her back on justice. What would Remus say if he saw her now?

Sanguini sat down beside her. "Thank you, Tonks. You have no idea what this means to me. To be able to see my people again before the week is out…I don't think I've ever been happier. I'm finally going home."

Tonks smiled thinly, nodding at him.

Home.

That was why she'd done it. Because she wanted the satisfaction of knowing that at least_someone _would be seeing their loved ones for the holidays. At least _someone _would be going home.

But for Tonks, as long as Remus was still out there, hiding from her, there was no such thing as home.

She looked back out the window and watched the swirling fog evaporate in the rising sun.

* * *

Remus huddled around the campfire with half a dozen other packmates. None of them had anything to say this early in the morning. All they cared about was staying warm.

He fell into a tired trance as he watched the dancing flames. The image of Dora's hopeful and determined face as she followed his Patronus replayed in his mind over and over again.

She wanted so much to find him.

Would it really have been so bad?

For the first time in months he felt a degree of peace and happiness. Last night he'd finally done what he was on this mission to do: helped a fellow outcast find some justice and safety.

And he'd helped Dora at the same time.

Remus smiled to himself, letting his mind drift over happy memories. By the time the sun had risen high enough to melt the frost on the ground, Remus had made up his mind. He'd go to the Burrow for Christmas.

Maybe, just maybe, Dora would be there.

The End


End file.
